Invincible Hearts
by Azoreene
Summary: **SYOT OPEN** Please help me to improve my writing, I would be so happy for of a little tiny review :)) Welcome to the 77th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor. Rated T because it's the Hunger Games. :D enjoy


Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games not me.

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**Invincible Hearts**

**The 77th Hunger Games**

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**Prologue**

**A/N: So this is my very first fanfic and it's going to be a SYOT (you can find the list of tributes and the form to fill in on my profile, please send me PM only). I am really excited to post this but also nervous. Yeah I hope you like the Prologue and I would be very pleased if you could submit your tribute or just leave a nice review. And it would also help me if you could tell me if there are any faults (Grammar or Spelling) because English is not my mother tongue but I still want to improve my writing and English :) It would mean the world to me :D well then … let's go :P**

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"I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare."

― Ned Vizzini

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I wake up as the sun shines into my room and makes everything look like in heaven, I wish I was there, but I know I am certainly not. Slowly I open my sleepy eyes and try to focus on what I am going to do today. But I just can't.

The painful memories of last years Hunger Games flashes through my mind and I decide to distract myself with some breakfast. I think of all the tributes, who are going to murder each other just for the amusement of the Capitol, I think of all the tears that are going to be cried by the unlucky families of the fallen tributes, of all the dreams that are going to be destroyed like every year, of all the blood. Dreaming I stare out through the window as I hear a familiar voice behind me:

"Darling is everything ok?"

I turn around to my mother. She was such a beautiful woman once; she had a pretty face, amazing wavy blond hair and shiny green eyes. My mom was the happiest and most open-minded person I knew, before the Games. Now the sparks in her eyes are gone and she looks like a tired old woman with dirty, messy blond hair and dark shadows of sorrow under her lacklustre eyes. She changed while I was fighting in the 76th annual Hunger Games, one year ago. Every time when the darkness at night won't let me sleep, keeps me awake and my mind just goes crazy I can hear her cry and it breaks my heart every single time, every single night.

I look at her and try to read her thoughts, it's hard to admit but I don't know this person in front of me anymore.

"No everything is ok, I promise", I reply and try to fake a smile, like I always do when I say those words I have been saying for so long.

Tired she smiles back and leaves my alone in my room. I sight. Sometimes I think everything would just have been better if I would have died last year, if that tribute from District 3 just killed me with that goddamn sword. It would be so much easier, I would not have to wake up every day and feel depressed. My thoughts keep spinning around as I slowly walk to the large kitchen my mom and I have now. The smell of homemade pancakes fills the air and for a moment I think I can hear my mother silently humming an old song she used to listen to when she was young. This makes me kind of happy and sad at the same time.

After breakfast I decide to go for a walk in the near forest, just to cool down and to prepare for the reaping. I still can't believe I am actually a mentor this year. Did I ever say I want to be one? No, I won't teach children how to kill each other and then see them fail. Everything would be my fault. I am not responsible for them. Walking along the path from my house to the forest my mind and thoughts go insane. But this is nothing new to me, I have always been a thinker but I don't know if that's something good or not. It's cold and I don't think it was a good idea to just walk out without a jacket. But that does not matter now. Nothing matters now anyway. I have one important thing to do, one thing I have been waiting for too long. The sky above me is grey and looks as hopeless as I feel deep down in my soul. My eyes closed I am standing there, in the middle of the forest. I can see my face in the lake to my feet. I can see myself. It starts to rain and I take one last deep breath of fresh, cold air before I slowly walk into the ice-cold water until it reaches my chin. The reaping: I can hear the sound of excited and worried parents somewhere far away. Deep inside I knew it would end this way.

One. Last. Breath. Of. Air.

Then I dive into the cold water. My heart beats fast and I think of every single tribute I killed last year whilst the air escapes my mouth. It is still my life and I make the decisions, not the Capitol. I try not to think of my mom. Even if I were crying now, it would not make any difference; they took away everything that actually meant something to me. The blue blur in front of my eyes slowly fades away and the last thing I hear in my head sounds like the cannon in the arena, when a tribute won't come home alive. Happy 77th Hunger Games everyone. My thoughts fade away and so do I.


End file.
